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Welcome Marianne,
so great to have you here with us. Can
you tell us a little about yourself?
I’m Marianne Harden, a romantic mystery writer, as well as a
California beach bum turned Washington State tree-hugger, world traveler,
mother of two, stepmother to two more, devoted wife, aspiring artist, Starbucks
aficionado, thrift store scavenger, gym rat.
Do
real life events find their way into your stories?
Goodness, no! If I lived Rylie’s life, I wouldn’t get out of bed. I
torture the poor girl. I swamp her with tricky affairs of the heart and make
her storm right into them. Then the wind changes and I hurl her into a disaster
that I, thank God, have never experienced. I’m wicked like that.
Do you
ever mimic family members or people you know when you choose characters?
Twice I used real people as inspiration, and twice I had to change them before the book went to print. Their spot-on depiction rushed straight at me and ran into with my conscience. I hadn’t meant to capture them so dead right. Certainly, it was because I knew them well, even though decades had passed since our last meeting. And as with most things that bring a sense of relief, my decision had been a good one, as I reconnected with one of them on Facebook recently. Someday I’ll fess up and we’ll both laugh about it. That said, I’m still glad I changed the character. He was a pisser.
Twice I used real people as inspiration, and twice I had to change them before the book went to print. Their spot-on depiction rushed straight at me and ran into with my conscience. I hadn’t meant to capture them so dead right. Certainly, it was because I knew them well, even though decades had passed since our last meeting. And as with most things that bring a sense of relief, my decision had been a good one, as I reconnected with one of them on Facebook recently. Someday I’ll fess up and we’ll both laugh about it. That said, I’m still glad I changed the character. He was a pisser.
Do you
find yourself going back to the same inspiration for each story or is it always
something different?
I happily and unhappily find inspiration all over the place. A
costumed crowd becomes a murder scene, a shopping cart a weapon, a sun-speckled
forest a spot for a little ‘luv’, or even a doctor’s office turns into a clue
finding adventure. It’s almost too easy to find yourself working every moment,
day and night, as I’ve also had dreams that inspired scenes or dialogue.
When
do you write? Early morning? During the
day sometime or all day? After the kids
go to bed?
Fluid writing is so hit or miss that I seem
to write all day waiting for those special moments to strike. I never feel as if
I write enough words each day, and I never like what I write at the time. Be
that as it may, writing feels most fruitful in the afternoon. Maybe because
it’s closer to cocktails and dinner. I offer no protests when my foodie husband
whips up a meal and cracks opens a bottle of wine. I’m a simple woman.
How do
you feel about marketing your book?
Kill me now. Childbirth was easier. I’m a people person, but pushing
myself on others comes with all the discomfort and awkwardness as begging with
a tin cup. Despite that, I love interacting with friends and soon-to-be-friends
on social media. It’s the pimping of my wares that sticks in my craw.
What
social sites do you feel work best for marketing?
No surprise here, it's the two major players: Twitter & Facebook.
Do you
like to pitch stories to your publisher or do you wait until you have written
the story and have a final manuscript to turn in?
I don’t like to waste time writing what publishers don’t think they
can sell. Because of that, a story may begin and end with a partial and
synopsis. But what the heck, there are many more plots just waiting for a
chance to spring to life.
Is
there any other genre that you would love to try writing? If so, what is it?
Steampunk. It blows me away, and writing a Steampunk romantic
mystery series would be the bomb. I love the period, the extravagant science, the
clothes, and the way they talk. But most of all I love the idea of writing something—anything
Dickensian.
'Oh! For God's sake let me go!' cried Oliver; 'let me run
away and die in the fields. I will never come near London; never, never! Oh!
pray have mercy on me, and do not make me steal. For the love of all the bright
Angels that rest in Heaven, have mercy upon me!'
For me, it doesn’t get any better than Charles Dickens.
Do you
always/ever see yourself as the heroine/hero when you write a story?
Sometimes when I look into my eyes in the mirror, I see a bit of
Rylie, mostly in her indecisiveness and reluctance to hurt her Granddad. Her
story, of course, both past and present, differs from mine. However, we both
have a tendency to go along with what others want for us rather than forging
ahead on our own, though Rylie grows more of a backbone than I’ve ever managed
to do.
Just
for fun, I have a few personal questions,
Favorite
5
1) Favorite Male Actor - Harrison Ford
2) Favorite vehicle – Vintage Volkswagen Beetle convertible
3) Favorite way to relax – Wine, lots of wine!
4) Favorite ice cream – Black Licorice
5) Favorite outfit – Fleece
pajamas
And
for a bonus: If you could pick any place
in the world to live, besides where you are now, where would it be? (Of course,
without the hindrance of jobs or money needed)
Cornwall, England
Where can
our readers find you??
Email: harden.marianne4@gmail.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarianneHardenFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMarianneHarden
Website/blog:
http://www.marianneharden.com/
Amazon
author page: http://www.amazon.com/Marianne-Harden/e/B00CH7QU26/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Is there
an upcoming or current release you would like to share with us today and where
can we find it?
MALICIOUS MISCHIEF a fun, flirty romantic mystery. And the first of many Rylie Keyes mysteries.
Blurb:
Is it strange to have the
unemployment office on speed dial? Not for twenty-four-year-old college dropout
Rylie Keyes. However, her current job at a small retirement home is worlds more
important than all her past gigs. Fact is, if she loses this job, she’ll fail
to stop the forced sale of her grandfather’s home, a modest lakeside bungalow
that has been in the family for ages. But to keep her job she needs to figure
out the truth behind the death of a senior citizen found murdered in her care.
The victim was thought to be a penniless man with a silly grudge
against Rylie. However, his enemies will do whatever it takes to keep their
part in his murder secret.
Forced to dust off the PI training she must keep hidden from her
ex-detective grandfather, Rylie has to juggle the attentions of two very sexy,
very different cops who both arouse and fluster her at the same time. And as
she trudges through the case, she has no idea that along the way she just might
win, or lose, a little piece of her heart.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16129273-malicious-mischief
Excerpt:
Excerpt:
I managed to look down. Froze. Zach’s jacket had
somehow twisted to the front, leaving my butt out in the open. I started to tug
it back into place, spied a huge pool of blood nearby, and keeled over. Splat.
“Isn’t that somethin’, you’re wearing a pink thong.”
Cokey Bill’s voice sounded distant. “Doris won’t wear one, on account of her
incontinence.”
Dizzily, I struggled to my knees, staggered a
little, then righted with a hand to one of the orange boxes for support. “Mr.
Oley—we need to get—help. Doris needs—help.”
“Ah, that’s the sweetest thing, you moving over
like that. I got a nice view now.”
I lapsed into a moment of stillness, hand to my
heart. I had a strong feeling nothing could be done for Doris, so I wanted to
give Cokey Bill a moment with his wife.
“Rare and beautiful thing, a nice ass,” he said.
Omigod! “Are you kidding me? You pervert. You’re
looking at my butt!”
“I’m a simple man,” he said.
“You should be ashamed—” I broke off when his eyes
went glassy. “Mr. Oley, are you all right?”
He sunk lower in his seat, grinned, and sagged
against the steering wheel, making the horn blare with his pointy nose.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t blink. This wasn’t
happening.
Solo popped his head inside the open passenger
door. “Holy crap!”
“Where have you been?” I managed.
“Watching some bunnies in the bushes.” He looked
from Cokey Bill to Doris and back to me. “What did you do, whisper them to
death?”
“No!” I said, gulping air. “Check his pulse.” Then
I closed my eyes to the blood and straddled Doris to do my best with CPR. It
didn’t matter that I thought it was useless, I couldn’t give up on her or Cokey
Bill. A minute later, I eyed Solo. “How’s he doing?”
He shook his head, shoulders slumped. “Dead.”
The blood left my face, I felt it go, drip by
bloody drip. “You sure?”
He nodded. “Pretty darn.”
I dragged my eyes off Cokey Bill and went back to
work on Doris. The shock and effort made me woozier. My panting and the
footsteps outside sounded as one. When the truck’s rear doors flew open, my
heart skipped a beat.
“Holy Mother Mary!” Zach said.
Fish and guts streamed out in a silver wave. Zach
leaped back. I grabbed for something, anything, but my hands were slimy. The
truck’s sharp angle made it worse. I missed a hand strap, but fisted some of
Doris’s shirt. She wasn’t moving, probably caught on something. I heard a
ripping noise. Ack! She was on the loose.
A jaunty slippery-slide over the rear bumper
whipped me higher than a bucking horse. We bounced onto the pavement, bounced
again. It turned out Doris was kind of springy. Even so, we went splat, a
bouncy splat that whipped me onto my back, my knees heavenward, and my arms
above my head. I opened one eye, peered up at Zach; his eyes were steely.
“I can explain.”
Reviews:
One last thing before we let you leave us today. Do you have a favorite recipe you'd
like to share? I like to cook and am
always looking for new recipes to try and share.
A Pacific Northwest Favorite: Blueberry Cobbler
Ingredients
·
2 1/2 cups
fresh or frozen blueberries
·
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
·
1/2 lemon,
juiced
·
1 cup white sugar, or to
taste
·
1/2
teaspoon all-purpose flour
·
1
tablespoon butter, melted
·
1 3/4 cups
all-purpose flour
·
4 teaspoons
baking powder
·
6
tablespoons white sugar
·
5
tablespoons butter
·
1 cup milk
·
2 teaspoons
sugar
·
1 pinch
ground cinnamon
Directions
1.
Lightly
grease an 8 inch square baking dish. Place the blueberries into the baking
dish, and mix with vanilla and lemon juice. Sprinkle with 1 cup of sugar and
1/2 teaspoon of flour, then stir in the tablespoon of melted butter. Set aside.
2.
In a medium
bowl, stir together 1 3/4 cups of flour, baking powder, and 6 tablespoons
sugar. Rub in the 5 tablespoons butter using your fingers, or cut in with a
pastry blender until it is in small pieces. Make a well in the center, and
quickly stir in the milk. Mix just until moistened. You should have a very
thick batter, or very wet dough. You may need to add a splash more milk. Cover,
and let batter rest for 10 minutes.
3.
Preheat the
oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Spoon the batter over the blueberries,
leaving only a few small holes for the berries to peek through. Mix together
the cinnamon and 2 teaspoons sugar; sprinkle over the top.
4.
Bake for 20
to 25 minutes in the preheated oven, or until the top is golden brown. A knife
inserted into the topping should come out clean - of course there will be
blueberry syrup on the knife. Let cool until just warm before serving. This can
store in the refrigerator for 2 days.
Thanks for much for hosting!
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